by Stacy Finz
She got up to clear the table while Katie and Lucky went into the living room to watch TV. As she loaded the dishwasher, Lucky came up behind her.
“You think we could talk outside for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” she said. “Let’s go inside my studio.” Tawny told Katie where they’d be and led Lucky through the kitchen door and backyard. In the studio, she flipped on the heat, motioned for Lucky to take a seat on one of the try-on benches, and sat across from him. “What’s up?”
“I think it went well, don’t you?”
“Yes. She likes you. Please don’t disappoint her.”
“Tawny, one of the things you and I have to get straight is that I’m dependable. You’re the one who decided to keep me out of Katie’s life. So stop acting like I’ll turn tail. What I came out to talk about is Katie’s health. I called my agent and he’s hunting down the best leukemia docs in the—”
Tawny cut him off. “How very nice of you and him, since Katie’s oncologist and hematologist are some of the world’s leading experts. Do you think I’m a country bumpkin, who can’t take proper care of my daughter?”
“Ah, for Christ’s sake, don’t go getting coiled up like a rattlesnake, Tawny. All I’m saying is that you’re no longer on your own. I’m here to help take the load off.”
She put her face in her hands. “I know, I know. It’s just that I’ve been doing it her whole life, Lucky, and I don’t want to be second-guessed.”
He pulled the bench close enough to hers so that they were touching knees. “I get it. That’s not what I’m doing. I swear. But from here on out, I’m your hazer.”
She smiled at him, knowing that hazer was a rodeo term for a steer wrestler’s right-hand man—the rider who bookends the animal while it’s running pell-mell across the arena, so the bulldogger can wrestle it to the ground.
“Seriously, Tawny, I’ve got a lot of time to make up for. And that’s gonna start with back child support.”
“You’re not still mad?” She couldn’t believe what an about-face he’d done.
“Hell yeah, I’m mad. Don’t mistake this”—he waved his hand between them—“for me forgiving you. I’ll probably never forgive your halfhearted effort to reach me. And my mother . . . you’re on her shit list. I think the only other people on that list are my deadbeat dad and Ray Rosser.”
And Raylene, if Cecilia was smart. How could Lucky possibly see that woman after all she’d done to him? Tawny tried to squeeze the picture of Raylene with Lucky out of her head. His personal life wasn’t any of her concern.
“But for the sake of Katie, we need to move on,” Lucky continued. “We need to get her healthy. I’m waiting for Pete to get back to me on specialists—”
“I already booked an appointment for next week,” she interrupted. “Her doctors are at Stanford. It’s just a simple blood test, so they’ll arrange to have it done somewhere near here. I trust her doctors implicitly.”
“All right.” He nodded. “She looks good today, not as pale as the last time I saw her.”
“Today’s been a good day. Tomorrow might not be. We never know.”
“Jeez.” Lucky took off his cowboy hat and finger-combed his hair. “Poor kid.”
“She’s tough.” Tawny presumed she got that from her father.
The man was nothing if not resilient. He’d helped support his mother as a teenager, working more jobs than Tawny could count. Flipping burgers at the Bun Boy, riding fences for the late Tip McCreedy, and wrangling at any ranch that would hire him. She used to watch him at the local junior rodeo. Even then, as a gangly young boy, he could make it to the eight-second bell on the back of a bull.
His only downfall had been Raylene Rosser. Apparently she still was.
“I want to take her to my mom’s,” Lucky said.
“It’s late, Lucky. This has been enough for one day.”
“I didn’t mean now. But in the next couple of days. Tawny, my mother wants to meet her granddaughter.”
Cecilia had already met Katie. Even if it was only a few times—Tawny had made sure to keep it that way. Lucky’s mother had helped organize meal drives when they’d come home from the hospital. She and the Baker’s Dozen, the local cooking club, had kept Tawny and Katie in soups, frozen casseroles, and covered dishes for weeks.
Cecilia Rodriguez was a kind woman, and Tawny had done wrong by her. But she’d only had the Rodriguezes’ best interests at heart. There was no doubt in her mind that Cecilia would be a doting grandmother. Tawny should’ve been happy about that. Instead, she felt terribly alone.
“All right. We’ll work something out,” Tawny said, resigned.
“You too,” Lucky said, and smirked. “You’ve gotta face her sometime.”
Tawny didn’t know why she did it, but blurted, “Will you be bringing Raylene?”
He shot her a look. “No, Raylene won’t be coming. Not this time.”
Tawny inferred that he meant Raylene would in the future—after the dust settled with Tawny. Great.
“You think you two could learn to coexist?” he asked, turning up the charm. “You know how it is with Raylene and me. It’s always been volatile, but, Tawny, I’ve loved her for what seems like my whole life and we finally have a chance to be together.”
“As I said before, Lucky, I don’t care who you have in your life, but I’m very protective of my . . . our daughter.”
“Raylene’s going through some bad times right now, and it’s messing with her judgment. But she’s a good person.”
Messing with her judgment? Tawny didn’t know what Lucky was talking about, but she suspected it couldn’t be good. When it came to Raylene Rosser, it never was.
“Anyway,” he went on to say, “I’m sure there’s a man in your life. Katie probably knows him better than she knows me.” Since his daughter didn’t know him at all.
Tawny didn’t respond. The truth was she didn’t want Lucky to know that there was no one in her life. There hadn’t been in some time.
“Mommy?” Katie came into the studio. “Can I have a bowl of ice cream?”
Tawny looked at one of the clocks on the wall. “Not before dinner, baby.”
“But we just had lunch.”
“No ice cream between meals.”
“But—”
“No buts, Katie. If you want a snack there’s fruit or carrots in the refrigerator.”
“Is Daddy staying for dinner?”
Both of them looked at Lucky. Katie more expectantly than Tawny, who could use a little space from Lucky and all his testosterone.
“Nah,” Lucky said. “I’ve got to get back to the ranch, honey. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Fantastic, Tawny thought. Now he’s a permanent fixture.
“Okay,” Katie said, and wandered back to the house.
“Boy, no ice cream. What a hard-ass.”
She started to berate him for not knowing anything about good parenting, but saw him grinning and stopped herself.
“I’d like us to go to my mother’s tomorrow for dinner.” When Tawny didn’t respond, he said, “Come on, Tawny. You can’t keep putting it off.”
“All right. As long as Katie is feeling okay.”
“I’ll call you in the morning. You ever talk to your customer about those boots?”
At first Tawny didn’t know what he was talking about. Then it came back to her. Yeah, those boots. “Not yet. Things have been a little crazy.”
“Okay. Just don’t forget. I want ’em.”
Time to change the subject. “How’s the cowboy camp coming?”
He hitched his shoulders. “Slow. Everything seems to take twice as long as it should. And I’m going to the world finals in December.”
Making it to the world finals for a bull rider was like making it to the Super Bowl. Only the best of the best qualified. The winner was awarded a million-dollar bonus. Although Lucky had won three years in a row, this would be his chance to be the longest-reigning world champ in the
history of the PBR. The whole town was talking about it.
“I’m sorry it’s taking so long,” she said. “But it’ll happen.”
“I’d just like to get out of that goddamned trailer. Instead of the apartment, now I’m thinking I need a house.”
Yeah, Tawny thought, for Katie and Raylene Rosser. Wouldn’t that be cozy?
Chapter 6
Cecilia checked her roast and Lucky checked his watch.
“They should be here any minute, Ma.”
“I know. I hope Katie likes rosemary potatoes.” She bustled around the kitchen like a chicken with its head cut off. “Make sure the table looks nice, mijo.”
“She’s nine, Mama. She doesn’t care about place settings.”
“Of course not, but I want everything to look nice for her first dinner with her abuela.”
“Be nice to Tawny, okay?” Lucky said, and went off to check the silly place settings.
He’d been at his mother’s for about an hour, and so far no mention of Raylene’s drunken outburst at the Gas and Go and how Lucky had been the one to bail her out. That either meant Jake hadn’t told his mother or Cecilia was too caught up in her first dinner with Katie to bring it up. Lucky bet that topic would eventually raise its ugly head. Half of Nugget probably knew, since Griffin Parks had witnessed the whole thing.
At least Raylene had been in a good mood today. She’d come over this morning, looking sweet and repentant, wanting sex and coffee, and he’d been more than happy to give her both. After weeks of sneaking around like schoolkids, she’d finally decided it was time to take their relationship public. Apparently she didn’t want to be upstaged by a nine-year-old. It looked like Lucky would be front-page Nugget news for the foreseeable future.
“Lucky?” his mother called from the kitchen. “How does it look?”
“Beautiful. Smells good, too.” He whiffed in the mouthwatering aromas coming from her stove.
God, his mama could cook. For twenty years she’d kept house for Raylene and her family at the Rock and River. Now he made sure she only kept her own. As far as Lucky was concerned, Cecilia Rodriguez should spend the rest of her days doing whatever made her happy. Cooking for her friends and family, volunteering at her church, working on her needlepoint, and maybe dating Jake Stryker. Lucky hadn’t made his mind up about that one. Without a doubt his mother should have a man in her life. Lucky just didn’t know if Jake was the right one.
From what he’d heard from Owen, the biggest mouth in Nugget next to Donna Thurston, Jake had been divorced three times. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of the man. But Jake sure seemed to make his mama happy. Ever since she’d met him at Clay McCreedy and Emily Matthews’s wedding, Lucky had never seen her smile so much.
The doorbell rang and Cecilia came out from the kitchen. “Should I get it or should you?”
Lucky’s lips quirked. He’d never seen his mother this fussy. “I’ll get it, Ma.”
He swung open the door to find both females dressed in their Sunday best. Katie had on a pink polka-dot dress—he was getting to think that pink was her favorite color—and little shoes covered in silver sparkles. But it was Tawny who made him do a double take. She looked like a freakin’ runway model in a figure-hugging green sweater-dress that matched her eyes. Her hair had been pulled up, with little wisps around her face. Lucky had to turn away for fear of staring.
He just wasn’t used to seeing her looking like this. Elegant, he guessed was the best way to describe it. Since he’d come back into contact with her, she’d always been casual, with her hair down and her boots on.
“Hey. Come on in.” He picked up Katie and spun her around. His daughter. Just hearing her giggle, knowing that she was part of him, gave him the oddest sensation. A combination of warmth and fierce protectiveness.
“Hello, Katie.” Cecilia held her arms wide and Katie tentatively moved into them.
“Hi, Ms. Rodriguez.”
“Abuela,” Cecilia said. “That’s grandma in Spanish.”
Katie looked over at her mother and Tawny gave her an imperceptible nod.
“Hi, Abuela.”
“Good pronunciation,” Cecilia said, and hugged Katie a little closer. “You hungry?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I have so many good things for you to eat.”
“She’s been cooking all day,” Lucky said.
“Thank you for having us, Ms. Rodriguez,” Tawny said, handing Cecilia a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers. In return, Cecilia gave Tawny a weak smile and Lucky knew they were in for a long evening.
As they followed Cecilia and Katie into the kitchen, Lucky whispered, “Compliment her house and food a lot. That’ll butter her up.”
“You have a lovely home, Ms. Rodriguez,” Tawny called to Cecilia’s back, and Lucky smothered a grin.
“Thank you. Lucky bought it for me.”
“He’s a good son,” Tawny said, and Lucky gave Tawny a thumbs-up.
She shook her head and smiled.
On the kitchen counter, Cecilia had put out appetizers. Queso fundido, a cheese dip, served with chips and veggies, stuff Lucky’s mother thought a kid would like. And from the looks of Katie dredging chips through the sauce, Cecilia had succeeded.
“I’m glad she’s eating,” Tawny said. “Lately the only thing she’s interested in is sweets.”
“That’s because you’re not feeding her the right things,” Cecilia said, and Lucky saw Tawny bristle.
“Ma,” he admonished.
“I just mean you have to be clever.” She turned to Katie. “Try it with some celery sticks, mija.” And Katie dutifully obliged.
“Would you like to see the rest of the home, Tawny?” Cecilia asked, and Tawny responded that she would love to.
Lucky decided it was safer to stay in the kitchen with Katie, and helped himself to some of the fundido. “Save room for the main course, kiddo.” He gave Katie a gentle noogie on the top of her head.
When Cecilia and Tawny rejoined them, Lucky could feel the tension, thick as California’s tule fog. He wondered if Katie noticed it too. Hell, the two women didn’t have to get along. It’s not like Tawny was his wife. Just the mother of his daughter, who she’d kept from him for nine years.
“We ready for dinner?” Lucky asked, hoping to lighten the mood in the room. “Katie and I are starved.” He winked at his daughter, who seemed to bask in his attention.
“I was just showing Tawny Katie’s room,” Cecilia said.
“Oh?” Lucky wasn’t aware that Katie had her own room.
Out of the three guest rooms in the house, even he didn’t have one specifically designated for him. But now he understood why Tawny appeared riled. His mother was moving in too fast, basically pissing on Tawny’s territory. Not Cecilia’s typical style. The woman was goodness personified, but don’t ever come between her and her family. Just ask the Rossers.
Lucky glanced over at Tawny, who flashed him a tight smile. He tried to convey commiseration, but truly, who could blame Cecilia for trying to make up for lost time? In the end, it was Katie who made the peace by launching into a story about the new boots Tawny was working on for her.
“I designed them,” Katie said, and proceeded to describe the boots in great detail. Sage with yellow butterflies and fringe.
“They sound beautiful, mija.”
When they finally sat to eat in the dining room, the mood had been dialed down to a low simmer. Katie continued to jabber away and Lucky kept his head down in case the dishes started flying.
“Ms. Rodriguez, everything is delicious,” Tawny said, and Lucky had to give it to her. Tawny had class. And the kind of manners Lucky’s mother usually liked.
“I was thinking,” Cecilia said, passing Katie more of the potatoes while directing her words at Tawny, “that I could watch Katie after school, while you’re working in your studio.”
Tawny coughed and Lucky said, “Now’s not a good time for this, Ma.”
“A few days
a week might be okay,” Tawny said. “It would actually be quite helpful. Thank you for offering, Ms. Rodriguez.”
Cecilia shot Lucky a victorious look. He had to say that Tawny’s easy consent had floored him. But he knew Tawny was trying for Katie’s sake. For her part, the kid seemed ecstatic, having already made mention of the large flat-screen TV in the front room. Nugget Elementary was just walking distance away and close to a park with a public pool.
“Jake’s daughters are coming up next month,” Cecilia said. “I thought it would be nice if we could all have dinner together.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to see where I’m at as far as the cowboy camp and . . .” He trailed off, not knowing whether he should talk about the transplant in front of Katie. And quite frankly, he didn’t know how tight he wanted to get with Jake and his family.
“Detective Stryker, from the Nugget Police Department?” Tawny asked, and when Cecilia nodded, she said, “I didn’t know you were seeing Jake.”
“I’ll come,” Katie burst in.
“Katie loves Jake,” Tawny said in a teasing voice.
“Well, of course you’ll come.” Cecilia smiled at Katie
“You’ve somehow managed to evade the Nugget gossip mill, because I’ve not heard this news,” Tawny told Cecilia. “He’s such a great guy.”
If Jake weren’t in his late fifties, Lucky would think Tawny had her eye on him.
“We’re friends,” Cecilia said.
Yeah, friends with benefits. Just the thought made Lucky shudder.
“And you, Tawny? Are you seeing anyone?” Cecilia asked, and Lucky waited for her answer.
“Not right now, no,” Tawny said, and Lucky wondered why not.
The table got quiet while they finished their meals, and afterward Tawny helped Cecilia clear the table while Lucky and Katie went outside to catch the last of daylight on the porch swing.
“Is this a Colin swing?” Katie asked.
“As a matter of fact, it is.” Lucky had seen the local furniture builder’s work and had snapped up a few pieces for his mother’s yard. Then he’d commissioned Colin to build the farm tables and benches for the lodge at the cowboy camp. “How do you know Colin?”